


Impractical Magic

by A_Farnese



Series: Domestic Bliss [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Writing, procrastination, the rules of magic, writer Merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 17:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5752096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Farnese/pseuds/A_Farnese
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rules of magic are never easy. Especially when you're making them up as you go along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impractical Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin and it characters are not mine. No money is being made from this.

"Merlin, what _are_ you doing?" Arthur paused mid-motion, his fingers still on the buttons of his coat. He tilted his head, expression quizzical.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Merlin looked up from his task and wiped his face with a grimy hand, leaving a dark smudge on his cheek. "I'm cleaning the oven."

"Yes, but why? You don't cook, and the only time I've seen you open that door is when I've asked you to take something out so it doesn't burn." His fingers untangled themselves and he finished unbuttoning the coat and draped it over a chair.

"The last time you made something you said it was dirty, and I wasn't doing anything important so I figured I'd go ahead and just clean the thing up so you wouldn't have to. You always complain about these things," Merlin said. He swiped at the last bit of black on the oven door and stood up, his knees cracking.

"That's very thoughtful of you."

Merlin shrugged. "It's nice to do nice things for people now and then."

"And I appreciate it," Arthur said. "But why are you procrastinating?"

The bright expression fell away from Merlin's face, turning into a scowl he couldn't hide behind a glass of water. "Well, it's the magic, isn't it?" he finally said.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What magic?"

"For the stories. When you're building a fantasy world and there's magic involved, you have to build in rules for magic. Otherwise there are no consequences or costs or anything like that, and your spell-casters might as well be like gods, right?"

"Um, right." Arthur grabbed a clean rag and dabbed at the smudge on Merlin's face before he could wander off and forget about it. "I thought you had that all sorted out."

"I thought I did, but now I'm not so sure. I mean, why would their eyes glow when they cast a spell? And why do some spells need words, and some don't? And if the magic-users of this world were so strong and there were so many of them, then how did the king's mundane army manage to annihilate them? There are so many things that don't make sense about what I've already put down on paper, and I feel like I can't make any more progress unless I get it all straightened out." Merlin scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, transferring more of the oven grime onto his skin.

Arthur waited out the rant, barely managing to keep the smile off his face. This was obviously a big deal to Merlin, and telling him that he looked adorable with the dark smudge on his nose and wild hair wouldn't help. Arthur caught Merlin's wrists and folded his hands around them to still the wild gestures. "Calm down, love. We'll get this sorted, but you should wash your hands first. And then maybe your face."

Merlin spread his hands wide and winced. "My hands are gross. How did I not notice that?" He slipped out of Arthur's grasp and bee-lined for the sink.

"Did you make any progress, then?" he asked. "In figuring out your laws of magic, I mean. I don't care about the oven."

"Maybe?" Merlin shrugged. The running water almost drowned out his answer. "I guess simple spells wouldn't need to be vocalised. If you're just trying to move something small or doing something you've done a million times, you wouldn't need to speak to focus your power. You could just do it without thinking, like how you can walk through the house without turning the lights on."

"That makes sense." Arthur handed him a towel. "What about the glowing eyes?"

"I'm not so concerned about that. It was something unique when I dreamed it up," Merlin said. "I suppose it's the outer manifestation of the power within. Eyes are the windows to the soul, after all."

"And the language? What direction did you take on that?"

"Old English," Merlin said.

"I thought these stories were based on Welsh tales?"

"Yeah, but people still speak Welsh. No one speaks Old English anymore." He plopped down in the dining room chair by his computer, but didn't open it.

"It sounds like you have everything straight, then," Arthur said.

"Mostly, I guess. I suppose. And if something changes later on, I can come back and make changes. That's what rough drafts are for," Merlin said. He tapped his fingers on the laptop.

"Then what's standing in your way?" Arthur put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his folded hands.

"Starting."

"I thought you'd already started?"

"I have started. It's the starting again that's the problem," Merlin said, scowling down at the laptop. "A new story, new day, new paragraph. Starting always sucks."

Arthur resisted the urge to reach across the table and smooth away the worry lines deepening on Merlin's forehead. "How about this- I'll order something for delivery, and while we're waiting for it to get here, you work on the story. Then we'll eat, and after that you'll work for another hour or two, and we'll do something else. We'll play that video game you like or something."

"What is this, a bribe?" Merlin asked. A faint, shy smile tugged at his lips.

"Maybe it is," Arthur said as he reached for his mobile, "but if it works, it works, right?"

"I suppose it does," Merlin said as he stretched his fingers and opened the laptop. "Let's get to work."


End file.
